


Her Door

by EdnaV



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdnaV/pseuds/EdnaV
Summary: There is a door that should never be open.Her door.
Relationships: Sergeant Shadwell/Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15
Collections: Name That Author Round Five: After Dark Redux





	Her Door

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the GO Events server's Name That Author Round 5. The prompt: "There is a door that should never be open. It's open".

There is a door that should never be open.

Her door.

She is a Jezebel, a scarlet woman, a whore of Babylon. She dances naked, that’s for sure, you’ve read all the things they say in the papers, even the ones that tell you what happens on Thursdays.

She deals with the occult.

She doesn’t have a cat because Mr Rajit said that it’s not allowed, the next tenant might be allergic and it’s so hard to find a good cleaner these days, so she might as well have a cat and call it funny names too.

She’s a witch.

She’s the enemy of the Witchfinder Army, and you’re a Sergeant in the Witchfinder Army. You’re a Sergeant, that’s everything you’ve ever been since you decided to do something with your life.

She’s a door that should never be open.

But so many things have happened this week. Even if you didn’t understand everything that was going on, you know that the world’s changed around you, that maybe the world is going the other way round now and it’s the witches’ turn to find the witchfinders.

And she’s always been kind, even when you didn’t understand anything of what was going on. 

Especially then.

And she’s never called you ‘Sergeant’, only ‘Mr Shadwell’. As if you could be something other than a Sergeant in what’s left of the old tattered Witchfinder Army. As if you could be something more.

And now she’s told you that lunch is ready. A nice bit of liver, she knows how you like it. She said that she’s set the table, and you know that she’s done it with a thoroughness that’s worthy of the best soldiers before a general’s inspection. 

It doesn’t sound like it’s occult, or one of those unexplainable phenomenons, phenomenatrices, phenomenices, ye ken well what I mean. 

It sounds like a home, and she’s invited you in.

There she is: a door that should never be open, and it’s open.

You cross the threshold.


End file.
